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Cheap Imports, Expensive Consequences

A story about food, homes, and the quiet war nobody voted for

By the time Tom locked the dairy gate for the last time, the sun was just coming up. Same light as always. Same cows watching him. Different ending.

His family had worked that land for three generations. Every cow had a name. Every fence post had a story. But stories don’t pay bills when the price of milk is driven down to the last miserable cent while costs climb like ivy up a brick wall.

Tom didn’t lose the farm because he was bad at farming.
He lost it because the system decided he wasn’t efficient.

How the Game Was Rigged

Years earlier, far from Tom’s paddock, the rules were rewritten in glass towers by people who’ve never stepped in mud. Capital pooled. Ownership concentrated. Supply chains stretched halfway across the planet. Asset managers like BlackRock and Vanguard didn’t need to hate farmers. Indifference works just as well. They funded the giants. The giants squeezed the suppliers. Supermarket duopolies like Coles and Woolworths leaned on farmers to cut prices again. And again. And again. When locals couldn’t meet the numbers, cheaper imports filled the shelves ~ food grown under standards that would never pass inspection here. Same label. Lower cost. Different rules.

The Slow Death of “Paddock to Plate”

Tom’s neighbour, Sarah, raised beef. Proper paddock-to-plate. Minimal stress. Local processing. Full traceability. Until the local abattoir shut. Bought out. “Restructured.” Capacity shifted.

The nearest facility now sat hundreds of kilometres away, owned by a multinational processor like JBS. Fuel costs exploded. Transport stress rose. Margins vanished.

Sarah sold half her herd. Then the rest. Not because consumers didn’t want local meat ~ but because the chokepoints had been captured.

The Illusion of Choice

People said, “Just shop independent.” But even that door was closing. The friendly local grocer with different signage? IGA. The wholesaler behind it? Metcash. Follow the money far enough and you end up back at the same pools of capital.

Different logos. Same gravity.

When Farms Die, Countries Follow

Nobody held a press conference when Tom’s farm closed. No emergency session of parliament. Just another “business decision.” But farms aren’t widgets. Once they’re gone, they’re gone. No food security means no national security. Not someday. Immediately.

A country that can’t feed itself is one shipping delay, one geopolitical hiccup, one trade dispute away from panic.

Meanwhile, the Same Thing Happened to Houses

In town, Tom’s kids couldn’t afford to buy. Homes had become assets first, shelter second. Institutional buyers outbid families. Rentals tightened. Prices climbed. Wages lagged. The younger generation wasn’t lazy ~ they were competing with spreadsheets. More people arrived. Demand rose. Politicians smiled. Conglomerates profited.

More mouths. More rent. More consumption. More control.

Here’s the part the story can change.

How the Story Could Have Gone Differently

Tom didn’t want handouts. He wanted the ground to stop tilting against him.

1. Open the Gates Again

If one company controls the only abattoir, the only dairy processor, or the only way onto a supermarket shelf, that’s not a market ~ it’s a lock.
Tom shouldn’t have been shut out of slaughter or sales because someone in a city boardroom owned the bottleneck. Break those chokeholds, or farmers suffocate.

2. Same Rules for Everyone

Tom followed the rules. Every one of them. If imported food can’t meet the same animal welfare, safety, and chemical standards he was held to, it shouldn’t be on the shelf. Simple. Trade without equal rules didn’t beat Tom ~ it undercut him.

3. Keep the Local Machines Running

When the local abattoir closed, Sarah’s farm went with it. Processing plants aren’t “just businesses” ~ they’re the heart of regional farming. If they fall, the farms fall. Protect them like roads, power, and water ~ because without them, nothing moves.

4. Land Is Not a Line Item

Tom’s farm wasn’t an asset class. It was food, soil, animals, and memory. etting distant funds buy up productive farmland turned working country into a spreadsheet. Farms should feed people, not portfolios.

5. Give Farmers Their Own Muscle Back

Once, farmers stood together and set fair terms. Real cooperatives ~ farmer-owned, farmer-run ~ could have given Tom bargaining power again: shared processing, shared branding, shared access to market. Not begging. Negotiating.

6. Homes Are for Living, Not Parking Capital

Tom’s kids didn’t need sympathy. They needed a chance. When investment funds hoard houses, families lose. Limit bulk buying. Put locals first. A home should be a place to grow a life, not just park money.

7. Show Us Who Owns the Country

Tom never knew who really owned the processor that shut him out, the shelf that dropped his milk, or the house his kids couldn’t buy. Full transparency changes that. When ownership is visible, power can be challenged. Darkness protects rackets. Light breaks them.

The Ending That Still Exists

Tom’s story didn’t have to end with a locked gate.

It only ended that way because we let systems grow so large, so distant, and so unaccountable that the people who feed the country became expendable.

The fixes aren’t radical.
They’re corrective.

And if they’re not made soon, there won’t be many Toms left to save.

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